That Pottergirl
by Carojen
Summary: AU The Potters did not have a son, but a daughter. Parts of the Wizarding World are hesitant to see a girl as their saviour, and there is still the prophecy to consider. A slightly different tale begins. Alternate Universe. Slowpaced.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

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* * *

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**The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...**

**Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...**

…**and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,**

**but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...**

…**and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…**

***

_Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Snape faced each other._

"_What request could a Death Eater make of me?"_

"_The – the prophecy … the prediction … Trelawney …"_

"_Ah, yes," said Dumbledore. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"_

"_Everything – everything I heard!" said Snape. "That is why – it is for that reason – he thinks it means Lily Evans!"_

"_The prophecy did not refer to a woman," said Dumbledore. "It spoke of a boy born at the end of July –_"

"_But he doesn't know that! He thinks it means her child, he is going to hunt her down – kill them all-"_

***

A letter told her that her sister was dead. A letter, and a child on her doorstep a chilly November morning.

No explanation, no condoleances; just a letter that spoke of murder and madmen,

of strange protections and of blood. It left no option for refusal.

Magic was pain and fear and injustice; magic was being left behind and grief and sorrow.

Magic was insane and strange and unnatural, but for Lily's sake she would endure.


	2. Beginning the Journey

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,

An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,

An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,

An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;

_- James Whitcomb Riley (1885)_

_**Just Another Birthday**_

- CHAPTER ONE -

Annie Potter was a highly unusual girl in many ways. For one thing, her bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs that she shared with some spiders. For another, she had never received a real birthday present in her life, not even a birthday card. And she also happened to be a witch.

It was early in the morning, and she was lying on her bed, watching a spider spin its web in a corner of the ceiling, and waiting for the rest of the house to wake up and let her out. The past week, ever since that strange letter arrived, her relatives had taken to lock the door to the cupboard during the night. Probably, Annie suspected, because they feared she would turn all them into frogs in their sleep. Not that she knew how to in any case. At least not yet.

It had begun when Uncle Vernon sent her to get the mail and Annie had found a thick yellow envelope addressed to her. The following row had revealed that no, the letter was not a joke, and yes, her relatives (apart from Dudley) had known that magic was real and that Annie probably was a witch. Of course, it hadn't been put it in quite those words.

A 'freak', Aunt Petunia had called her sister, and her husband tended to agree.

Not long after, a very large man, going by the name 'Hagrid', had appeared and whisked Annie off to London and a hidden magical alley, where they had acquired all what the not-quite eleven-year-old needed for her magical schooling.

Of course, the moment Annie returned to Privet Drive with her new things the Dursleys had tried to have them locked up, and only the threat of telling Dudley the whole truth had stopped them. As far as he knew, his cousin was 'not normal', and that was it. The explanation, or rather the lack of it, had been supported by the promise of a new computer game and for the past week Annie had heard her cousin spend hours in front of the computer, blowing up aliens, occasionally accompanied by his friend Piers Polkiss.

Annie was rather relieved that Dudley had preferred to stay in his room most of the time; other summers had been filled with games of 'Annie-Hunting', and she was not sure she would be able to control herself if her cousin and his friends tried it now that she knew about magic.

The sound of steps from somewhere above her rocked her from her musings, and she lay there listening as someone proceeded down the stairs and into the kitchen, from which the jostling of pans soon was heard. Her aunt was always the first one to get out of bed, in order to prepare breakfast for the rest of the family, and usually Annie would be dragged out of bed to help. It hadn't happened since she got the letter from Hogwarts though.

The padlock to the cupboard clicked open after a little while, but Annie waited for her aunt to return to the kitchen before she got up and walked out into the hallway. She could hear her uncle moving around upstairs and she hurried into the kitchen before he could start descending the stairs.

Aunt Petunia gave her a look of annoyance when she entered, but did not say anything. The elder Dursleys still seemed to think that the best way to deal with her was to ignore her, and frankly, it had begun to irk Annie a little. She felt like their silence towards her was just the calm before the storm, and could not help tensing up every time her aunt's or uncle's gaze fell on her.

Eventually, all of the Dursleys had come downstairs and joined the kitchen table. They ate in silence, Uncle Vernon hidden behind his newspaper and Dudley oblivious to the tension in the air.

After breakfast Annie was sent out to weed the garden, the first chore she had been given since Hagrid's visit. She actually did not mind doing the weeding, even though it was a rather boring job at times. She liked feeling the soil between her fingers and knowing that the flowers would be growing thanks to her. It had also always meant being relatively undisturbed by the Dursleys, and being able to let her mind wander.

It had been a shock when she arrived to Diagon Alley and learned that she was famous. People had crowded her with hand shakes and greetings, and she had been relieved when Hagrid finally drove them off. She giggled at the sudden thought of the wizards and witches seeing her now, clad in Dudley's old cast-offs and her hands black from dirt. It was not exactly the picture of a heroine, no matter how you looked at it. Shaking her head at the silliness of it all, she continued her work.

* * *

The following month went by quicker than Annie would have expected. Between her resumed daily chores and reading her new books for school, time seemed to fly and before she knew it, September the first arrived. Having exchanged some galleons into pounds during her trip to Diagon Alley, she had been planning to take the bus to London, but in the end it turned out to be unnecessary; Mrs Jones, Annie's teacher from Primary School, had picked her up at the bus station, saying that it would be a waste of money to pay for the train ticket when she was driving to London.

"A boarding school, you say. I wouldn't have thought your relatives would think it worth the money. Is Stonewall High not good enough for you?", the older woman had spoken up after some time.

"There's a trust paying for it", Annie replied quietly, stretching the truth a little. "A friend of my father is the game-keeper there, and told me about it."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be eligible for a stipend, not with your grades being what they are.", the older women continued brusquely. Annie stiffened at the veiled insult, but answered shortly:

"It's because my father went there." With that Mrs Jones seemed to be satisfied, and the rest of the trip elapsed in silence.

"Thank you for the lift", Annie said politely after arriving at King's Cross and unloading her trunk. Mrs Jones nodded briskly, adding an admonition about keeping out of trouble, and drove off. Annie grabbed her trunk and began to drag it towards the stall of trolleys.

Reaching the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Annie found that she was rather early. It was only a quarter to ten, which meant she had more than an hour left until the train to Hogwarts would leave at eleven o'clock. Had she been taking the bus as planned, she would have arrived half an hour later.

It turned out to be quite fortunate that she had been early since it took her awhile to figure out where to find platform nine and three-quarters, not to mention managing to board the train with her rather heavy trunk. At last she was seated, however, and was watching how other children were seen off by parents, families and relatives.

A bit enviously she noticed a trio of red-headed boys being sent off by their mother and a sister. Having the Dursleys there would probably have been even worse than being alone, but for once in her life she could not help but wish that there was someone who would be sad to see her go.

* * *

Shortly before eleven o'clock, the door to Annie's compartment slid open and a tanned dark-haired girl entered, barely sparing Annie a glance before settling down with a book. Only a couple of minutes later the train jolted into motion and Annie's attention was caught by the landscape passing by rapidly as the train gained speed. A sudden thrill of excitement coursed through her as they left the urban area; she was going to Hogwarts! It was almost like a fairy-tale come true; she would get to learn magic and best of all, she got away from the Dursleys.

She finally turned away from the window when she heard someone else entering the compartment, and saw a girl looking identical to the first one, as well as a hard-faced girl that reminded her uncomfortably of Aunt Petunia. The second girl gave Annie a look of disgust before turning to the reading girl.

"Please, Padma, wasn't there _any _other compartment than this?", she said with displeasure, not bothering to lower her voice.

"All the others were occupied, this was one of best.", Padma answered without bothering to look up from her book.

In the reflective surface of the window Annie could see Padma's sister and her friend putting their heads together, most of the time talking too low for Annie to overhear them. Now and then they throw her a glance. She tried not to mind them, but finding out that magical children could be as mean as normal ones had not been anything she had thrown her off. Somehow she had expected everything to get better after learning about Hogwarts; perhaps just a foolish hope now that she thought of it.

Then there was one last remark that ended her patience.

"It's a shame Hogwarts will let in just anyone, they should at least have _some_ standards." The nasty look she threw Annie made it perfectly clear who she thought did not measure up. There was a tense silence and then without a word Annie stood up and moved towards the door, not intending to endure one more of those remarks.

"Pansy, that really wasn't a nice thing to do", one of the dark-haired girls said as Annie left. The last thing she heard before the compartment door closed was the puzzled reply of the other girl:

"What? It's just a mudblood."

* * *


	3. Train Ride

_**The beginning of a dream**_

- CHAPTER TWO -

Neville Longbottom was not sure of how he felt about going to Hogwarts. He knew he should be happy for it, his gran certainly was when the letter arrived, but for his part there was mostly nervousness about going away. Living with his gran, he had never spent much time with other children; in fact, he had never before been anywhere without one of his older relatives going with him. Now his only companion was his toad Trevor, and he had already managed to lose it once at the train.

When he returned to his compartment after finding the toad, Neville was surprised to see someone else sitting there.

The other person was a girl, with short dark hair and scruffy, obviously too large clothes that made her seem even smaller than she was. 'Poor', Neville supposed. He had himself never had to wear hand-me-downs, mostly for the simple reason that he had no older siblings to receive them from, but that did not mean he did not know what it was like to live off small means. He didn't know what to say when she turned her eyes to him and just clutched his familiar in his hands, focusing on the familiar weight.

"You're Neville, right?", the girl said uncertainly, causing Neville to frantically try to remember where they could have met and if he was supposed to know her name. She must have seen something on his face, because she elaborated.

"I saw you in Diagon Alley with that old lady. I'm Annie, by the way."

"That was my gran, I live with her." Neville explained awkwardly after having sat down, and regretted it almost immediately. He expected her to ask what had happened to his parents and why he lived with his grandmother, but to his surprise she didn't say anything, just nodded slightly as if in understanding.

"I live with my aunt and her family", she offered after a short while. Before Neville had had a chance to think of anything to say, the compartment door opened. A plump woman with dimples stuck in her head.

"Want anything from the trolley, dears?"

The girl jumped up from her seat. Neville sank deeper into his seat as she walked past him and out into the passageway. He didn't have any money to buy anything; his gran considered it a waste to buy lunch when he could simply bring his own. Still, it would have been nice to be able to buy some sweets. He had brought a couple of sandwiches that he had made on his own, and a bottle of pumpkin juice, which was sweet enough in itself. The sandwiches weren't that bad either, he thought as he chewed; they had both ham and cheese on and pickled cucumber from the garden.

"Here."

Neville blinked. In front of his eyes was Trevor, held by two small hands. He raised his eyes and found himself meeting the gaze of the black-haired girl. Her eyes were green, he noticed oddly, before coming to his senses.

"This is yours, right?", Annie continued when the boy didn't move. "I found it in the corridor, it must've got out with me."

"Y-yes, it's mine.", Neville said hurriedly, putting down what was left of his lunch and taking the pet. "Thanks for stopping it, I've already lost it once." This time he hadn't even noticed that it was gone, and he thought worriedly of how it would go at Hogwarts. He seriously doubted that he would get any better at keeping track of it, especially in a large school.

"What's its name?" The question came unexpectedly and Neville had to swallow his last bite before answering.

"I, er, haven't named it yet", he said embarrassedly and hurried with an explanation. "I just got him, he was a gift when I got in to Hogwarts. My relatives, they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased when the letter came that he bought it for me."

The girl looked puzzled.

"I thought everyone with magic went to Hogwarts", she said in a half-asking way. Neville flushed.

"Eh, I don't know really, but my gran says that some people never get their letter, even though they have some magic. And then there's those who get in, but …" He stopped himself, he didn't really want to think about this, let alone talk about it. "They, well, if they aren't good enough they flunk out. I think it happened to someone my gran knew, back in school", he finished to the sight of Annie's horrified fascination. Her sweets lay forgotten on the seat next to her as she listened, but apparently she noticed him looking because she quickly offered him some, as if trying to distract herself from what she had heard.

"Are you sure?", Neville asked hesitantly, not really certain about taking food from someone he barely knew, but the girl just shrugged.

"It's too much for me anyway." As he helped himself to some chocolate frogs, he tried to come up with something else to talk about, but his thoughts kept returning to what waited him at the end of the trip.

Hogwarts.

It definitely worried him, going to school and being on his own. He was well aware that he always forgot things and messed up, his relatives told him often enough. Schoolwork had also always been a chore for him. While reviewing he could know the facts as clear as water, but as soon as his gran would question him on it, it was as if he had never read it. What if it would be the same at Hogwarts, what if they figured that he wasn't good enough, that his letter had been a mistake? He had no idea what he would do then, what would happen to him. His gran would be disappointed, no doubt. Maybe he would have to go live in the muggle world, even though he had a hard time imagining how that would be. Maybe Annie could tell him.

"What's it like living with muggles, non-magical people I mean?" he asked and felt his heart plummet at the grimace he received as answer.

"Bad.", she said shortly before changing her mind. "No, not really, but with my relatives it is. They kinda freaked every time I did something magical, but other than that I guess it wasn't too bad. I don't know if it's much different living with magic." She shrugged and held up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "What are these? They aren't real frogs, are they?" She sounded as if it wouldn't surprise her, so Neville hastened to reassure her.

"No, it's just chocolate. There are cards in them too, some people collect them. See?", he said and showed her the card of Cornelius Agrippa that he had found with his frog. "You can have it if you want to start collecting?" His stomach fluttered a little as she smiled at him and took the card. He saw her eyebrows lift in surprise when she looked at the now empty frame, and remembered that the muggle pictures he had seen in town never moved. It had scared him the first time he saw it, and he assumed it must be startling to see a moving picture for the first time too.

"They do that, disappear I mean."

"Weird."

It was rather nice, sitting there and eating candy and trying to figure out a good name for the toad as the view outside the window changed into woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills. Neville thought he might get used to this, spending time with other children. It was relaxing to be away from his gran's ever-sharp eyes and admonitions. And Annie seemed nice.

* * *

Hours later the train finally began to slow down before coming to a halt. Outside it had already grown dark, and Annie shivered a little in the cool evening air.. The bunch of first year students was collected by Hagrid and led down a winding path that ended at the shore of a large black sea. On the other side of the water rose a cliff with a large castle towering on top of it.

"No more than four to a boat!", Hagrid shouted and pointed to a fleet of small boats that lay in the water. Neville and Annie shared a boat with a stringy-looking boy that didn't speak a single word during the boat-trip, not even as the others 'oh'ed and 'aw'ed at the sight of the castle perched upon a high cliff. It was a huge, rambling, quite scary-looking castle, with a jumble of towers and battlements. Annie suspected that parts of it had to be supported by magic, because with all the additions and gravity-defying outcrops, the castle looked like it should have already fallen apart.

Reaching the cliff the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which had a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out on to rocks and pebbles. Hagrid then led them through a dark passageway in the rock, the children following his lamp and trying not to stumble in the dim light.

In front of her in the uneven procession, Annie could see the twin sisters she had been seated with in the beginning. They had split up, one of them walking with Pansy and the other one talking with a blonde girl and very pointedly not looking back at the girl who had insulted Annie. Further ahead, a red-headed boy Annie had seen at the station was trudging along, head down and one hand in his pocket. She wondered if he too carried a pet with him in his robe, as Neville did with the newly named Trevor.

The group reached the castle and were met by a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes, who Hagrid addressed as Professor McGonagall. She led the children across the flagged stone floor of the entrance hall, past the door behind which the voices of hundreds of people could be heard, and into a small empty chamber. Annie and Neville had been separated during the short walk, and she was now standing with a brown-haired girl who was trying to hide how nervous she was. They were all standing rather closer together than they normally would have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She paused, looking them all over, before resuming.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She left the chamber, and in her wake a low murmur of anxiety and anticipation broke out. The brown-haired girl was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learnt and wondering which one she'd need. Annie tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying she'd somehow put her teacher's wig on fire. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to her doom.


	4. The Sorting Hat

_**A sky full of stars**_

- CHAPTER THREE -

The doors swung open and they trooped into a large hall, lit with candles. Only in her wildest dreams could Annie have imagined such a place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. The ceiling was velvety black, dotted with stars. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens.

At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Annie heard a girl whisper that the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside, but in the next moment her attention was riveted to the pointed wizard's hat that Professor McGonagall had placed on a four-legged stool in front of the first-years.

This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house, but that went for most of the things Annie had seen during her visits to the magical world. Perhaps that was why Aunt Petunia was so obsessed with cleanliness, she reflected. Because magical people wasn't.

For a moment there was complete silence, and then the hat began to sing. When it had finished its lyrical description of the Hogwarts houses, the whole hall burst into applause, and then Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment, announcing that they would begin the sorting and proceeding with calling out their names, starting with Abbott, Hannah.

As more and more of her classmates were called forward and sorted, the ball of dread in Annie's stomach grew. She still couldn't get rid of that nagging little voice saying that it was all a mistake, that they soon would discover that she shouldn't be here. Her worry grew as closer they came to her where her name should be on the list, until finally …

"Potter, Anne!" Relief suddenly replaced the doubt, and as whispers broke out all over the hall, Annie's eyes fell on the rude girl from the train. Parkinson looked like she had swallowed a lemon, and Annie felt a small sting of satisfaction at having caused it. The last thing she saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the Hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting ... So where shall I put you?" Annie gripped the edges of the stool. She couldn't, _mustn't_ get in Slytherin, and that last comment had sounded too much like it. Not far from her mind was the last conversation she had had with her aunt, the night before she left Privet Drive.

She never would have asked normally, not when she would have had to bear the consequences of upsetting her relatives, but she was leaving, going to Hogwarts, and there was nothing to lose.

"_Why?" A soft question, from someone who had been told not to ask, but found this too important not to. _

"_Why what?", her aunt had retorted sharply, not taking her eyes from the cleaning she was performing. She always went over the kitchen the last thing before going to bed, one of the few chores that Annie had never been entrusted._

"_Why did you take me in when you didn't want me?" She saw her aunt go still. They both knew it was true, but it had never before been voiced out loud. The silence stretched and Annie had begun to think that she would get no answer when her aunt finally spoke. Her voice was low, flat._

"_We had to. I had to. There was a letter, it said you'd be safe here, protected …" She suddenly turned around and caught Annie's eyes. "I didn't want you, I didn't love you, but you was the only thing I had left of Lily and I thought I'd be able to keep at least that. But now you're going off to that place, just like her!" The last part was said with a raised voice; anger, scorn and disgust mingled in it. Annie had retreated, hurried back to her cupboard and curled up on her bed._

She had thought of what her aunt had said, 'protected', and how Hagrid had spoken of Slytherin and Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and it had added up to a conclusion she didn't want but couldn't deny. There were people who might hurt her, who still carried a grudge for the disappearance of Voldemort and who might have children who would be at school with her. And if He wasn't really dead, as Hagrid had seemed to believe …

… Slytherin wouldn't be safe, no matter how undeserved their reputation might be in general. She couldn't, she mustn't be in Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice, seemingly having picked up her thoughts. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Relieved, Annie took off the hat and walked shakily to the Gryffindor table. The applause for her was the largest of the whole evening, but she didn't care; she was just so happy that she had been chosen at all and not going to have to go back to the Dursleys. The following meal exceeded all her expectations and had more kinds of food than even Dudley could have eaten at once.

* * *

Later that night, the Gryffindor students were led to their new common room by one of the prefects, a red-haired boy named Percy Weasley. Boys and girls were directed to different dorms and well there, Annie sat down on her bed with a yawn. She didn't bother unpacking, only changed into the old t-shirt she used to sleep in and climbed to bed, wholly intending to fall asleep as soon as she could lay down her head on her pillow.

Unfortunately, not all of the other girls shared her intention. Parvati and her friend started chatting animatedly with each other, causing the brown-haired girl to give them an annoyed look.

"Excuse me, there's actually people who wants to sleep now", she said in a snippy voice when the girls did not show any sign of become quiet soon. She got an insincere "sorry" before they continued their talk in excited whisperings. Annie heard the girl huff.

"We have school tomorrow and _I_ at least want to make a good first impression. If you keep us awake by your chattering I will have to get a prefect." The other girls whispered something to each other, but shut up. Annie soon fell asleep with a verse from the Sorting Hat's song still running through her mind, and perhaps that was the reason she dreamt so strangely.

She was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Annie told the turban she didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Parkinson, laughing at her as she struggled with it — then Parkinson turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Annie woke, sweating and shaking.

She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, the dream remained only as a faint memory.

* * *

Perhaps it was the brown-haired girl's inclusive 'us' the night before that did it, or perhaps the Indian girl was embarrassed by their first meeting. Whatever the reason, Parvati and her friend Lavender kept to themselves and Annie was left to either sit alone or endure the presence of the fourth girl. After the first few lessons, Annie was already beginning to regret her choice.

The girl, whose name turned out to be Hermione Granger, apparently found it perfectly fine to be telling her companion all her thoughts about school, her being muggleborn and the fact that Annie figured in several books regarding the dark lord's downfall.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me.", Hermione exclaimed after one of the few times she was quiet long enough for Annie to add a comment. Annie just shrugged and let her set off into another long tirade about how immature some of their class mates were and that she could not understand that they could take so lightly on something so important as schoolwork. Spending time with her at least ensured that Annie wouldn't have any problems with the teachings; if by chance there was anything she didn't understand immediately, she could count on Hermione doing her best to explain – often without being asked to.

Something Annie had discovered though, was that for all her enthusiasm and know-it-all attitude, Hermione was still much less of a bother than many other students.

From her very first day, Annie had to endure people pointing at her and whispering everywhere she went. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. Annie wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot.

She had been hurrying down an empty corridor, trying to find her way to some lesson or other, when she had almost walked into another student.

"Watch where you're going, you …!" The voice trailed off. It belonged to a pale boy who looked to be Annie's age, with the green and silver of Slytherin on his robes. His expression had changed when he realised who she was, and like everyone else his eyes immediately flickered towards the scar on her forehead.

Annie had really started to hate that reaction by now.

"Sorry", she said and made to step around him, but the boy stopped her.

"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. And you'd be Annie Potter", he said confidently. "You'll find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Annie's, and after a moment's hesitation she took it.

"Thanks, but I prefer to make my own judgement.", she told him neutrally, meeting his eyes. The boy seemed a bit taken aback, so Annie used his brief moment of confusion to slip her hand out of his grip. While his offer seemed sincere, the patronizing tone of his speech had rubbed her the wrong way, and she had no desire to talk to him. The sounds of approaching students saved her.

"Well, I don't want to be late, so …" With a nod to Malfoy she left, ignoring the other Slytherins arriving. She fought the urge to lower her head as she walked past them - there was no Dudley here, damnit, and trying to hide wouldn't do her any good. Well out of sight she lengthened her steps, and managed to find the correct classroom in the nick of time. As the lesson started the encounter with the boy was no longer on her mind.


	5. Halloween

_Lessons _

- CHAPTER FOUR -

It didn't take long before Annie saw the blond Slytherin again. On Friday it was time for the first-year Gryffindors' first Potions lesson, which was shared with the Slytherin first-years. The teacher was Professor Snape, the Head of the Slytherin House. It quickly became evident that he, as opposed to Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor, Professor Snape openly favoured his own students.

Snape's class room was in the dungeons, and much colder than the rooms higher up in the castle. Like the Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick, Snape paused when he came to Annie's name at the class list.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Annie Potter. Our new - celebrity." Annie stiffened when she heard this. She was sincerely tired of the whole "Girl Who Lived"-business, and his voice sounded almost mocking. Her first impression of the teacher was that he was dangerous, and probably not someone you wanted to cross. This feeling increased when he began speaking.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began in barely more than a whisper.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed this.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione's hand shot in the air, she was evidently eager to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead. Annie tried to remember what the book had said about this, she had read it only the day before.

"A sleeping draught, sir", she answered.

"A barely adequate answer. This sleeping potion is so strong it's known as the Draught of the Living Death. Let's try another. Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

"The potions cupboard?" The retort slipped out before Annie could stop herself. While she knew that a bezoar was some kind of antidote, she honestly had no clue where to find one. It didn't help that Hermione was trying like mad to get the professors attention in the seat next to her.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer, and Annie had the sinking suspicion that she somehow had managed to earn his continual dislike.

"One point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter." Annie could almost feel the shocked outrage from some of the other Gryffindors, as well as the glee from the Slytherin side of the class room. "For your information, Potter, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons." For a moment it seemed as if Snape was going ask another question, before he addressed the class at large.

"Now, why aren't you all writing this down?" There was a furious searching for quills and parchment.

As the lesson continued, Snape put them all into pairs and set them mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. Annie was pleasantly surprised to be paired with Neville, although she changed her opinion once they had gotten started. Several times she had to stop him from adding a incorrect ingredient or at the wrong time, but in the end their potion didn't look too bad – at least not in her and Neville's eyes – but Snape still took a point for their "abysmal result". All too well used to injustice after living with the Dursleys, Annie kept her head down and collected her things when they were too leave. Seamus Finnigan on the other hand, grumbled loudly over the loss of points, causing Snape to take another point from Gryffindor.

That didn't stop them complaining on their way back to Gryffindor Tower, though, and even Hermione joined in then. In all fairness, she seemed more upset that she hadn't been allowed to answer any questions, but that didn't matter. Just the fact that she was willing to criticise a professor was enough to gain her some points in the other first-years' eyes. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

* * *

Two months after the beginning of term, Hermione Granger was no more popular than she had been at her arrival. Annie was probably the closest thing to a friend the other girl had, and even she got tired of the girl's overbearing ways at times. That was probably why the comment from Ronald Weasley had been the last straw, sending her in tears to the girls' toilet after a Charms lesson. Annie hadn't been present, only hearing about the incident from Lavender, but what she heard made her feel a bit guilty. _No wonder she hasn't got any friends_, hit a bit too close to the truth.

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon, so when the other first-years left for the Great Hall, Annie instead sneaked off to the fourth floor toilets to talk to her.

"Hermione?", she asked tentatively. A muffled shout answered her.

"Go away!"

"I just wanted…" Annie didn't get to finish her sentence.

"I told you, leave me alone!" Annie hesitated, not really knowing what to do. In the end, she settled for sitting down with her back to the wall.

"Won't you come out from there?", she tried.

"What, so you can pretend to care like everyone else?", Hermione hissed, but Annie ignored her accusation.

"No, but I'm getting tired of talking to a door!" There was a long silence, and then she heard the click of the lock and saw the door move. Hermione's puffy-eyed face appeared, tear-tracks still visible on her cheeks.

"Then why are you here?" And Annie prepared herself to explain.

* * *

It took her some time to convince Hermione to leave the toilets and come down to the Halloween feast. As it turned out, it was quite fortunate that the girl gave in when she did.

The moment the door opened a foul stench reached Annie's nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. And then they heard it — a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. At the end of a corridor, something huge was moving toward them. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

Eyes transfixed with what couldn't be anything other than a troll, Annie more felt than saw Hermione make a move to retreat into the room, and grabbed her arm to stop her. While there might be a possibility that the troll wouldn't discover them if they hid, she didn't give much for their chances if it caught them in an enclosed space. Instead she began, as quietly as possible, to edge in the opposite direction from the beast, dragging her friend with her and praying that the troll wouldn't notice them.

They had almost reached the intersection when the troll finally caught wind of them and peered at them, waggling its long ears. Annie didn't wait for it to make up its tiny mind, only grabbed Hermione's hand harder and started to run. Behind them she could hear the footsteps of the troll. For its size the heavy creature was able to move surprisingly fast once it was in motion. Luckily the girls had enough of a head-start to lose it in the maze of corridors.

Once Annie realised this, she slowed down to allow them to catch their breaths. It was about then they rounded a corner and almost collided with the Gryffindor boys, sans Neville.

"There's a troll…!", Ronald Weasley blurted out as soon as he saw them. Annie quickly shushed him.

"We know! It was right after us", she said in a low voice, straining her ears to hear if it had picked up the trail again.

"Shouldn't you be at the feast?" It was Hermione who finally had enough air to speak, although her voice was still a bit shaky.

"We came to warn you, everyone else went back to the common rooms." Dean Thomas explained, followed by Seamus retelling of how professor Quirrell had burst into the Great Hall in the middle of the feast and collapsed after telling there was a troll in the dungeons.

They almost ran into Snape heading the other direction and had to hide behind a large stone griffin, but reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and the entrance to Gryffindor tower without being detected.

* * *

"But why wasn't Snape down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?", Annie overheard Dean wondering later that evening.

"Looked like he was heading for the third floor", Seamus said excitedly. "What if he was trying to get through that trapdoor?"

As the boys continued their discussion, Annie thought about the pieces she had of the puzzle. Hermione had told her about the three-headed dog standing on a trapdoor that she and the boys had found one night while running from Filch. Hagrid had said that Gringotts, the wizarding bank, was the safest place in the world, except perhaps Hogwarts. And then he had removed a small grubby package, saying it was Hogwarts business. Add to that the newspaper article from her birthday, which claimed that someone had tried to rob Gringotts. The goblins had said the vault in question had been emptied a week earlier – the same day she and Hagrid had been there.

But what could be so important? That question brought her up short. Someone had gone through the trouble of breaking into a bank that everyone said was impossible to rob, just to get a small object only a couple of inches long, and Dumbledore must have somehow expected it, since he sent Hagrid to fetch the package.


End file.
